


don't we dream impossible things

by BananasofThorns



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bittersweet?, Blood Pacts, I have many thoughts about that, M/M, Short & Sweet, this is soft, vague timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24742327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananasofThorns/pseuds/BananasofThorns
Summary: “Do you ever...regret this?”Caleb holds up his hand. The scar on his palm seems to glow gold in the firelight and Fjord can’t help but lift his own hand up, squinting at the matching scar there. Caleb’s words hang in the air between them.“No,” Fjord says, only a bit surprised to find that it’s completely truthful. “I don’t. Why, do you?”
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	don't we dream impossible things

**Author's Note:**

> [title from Starlight - Taylor Swift]
> 
> just a short, soft thing because I needed it today. I have many thoughts about their blood pact; most of them are along the lines of "that was so fucking stupid," but some are more like this

“Fjord?”

Caleb’s voice is quiet, nearly lost beneath the crackling of the dim fire at the center of their camp. Fjord tilts his head in Caleb’s direction but doesn’t actually look, keeping his eyes trained on the sky.

It’s too cloudy to see any constellations, but there’s something about the serene silence that makes Fjord want to search anyway.

“Hm?”

Caleb doesn’t answer for long enough that Fjord glances over, a frown playing on the edges of his lips. Caleb is staring at the ground somewhere between their feet, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb across the palm of his hand. There’s a contemplative, almost perplexed crease between his eyebrows.

“Caleb?” Fjord asks. 

Caleb blinks, back straightening out of what must be reflex before his shoulders slump back down. Fjord frowns at him.

“Ah— nevermind,” Caleb says, shaking his head. His hand drops into his lap. “It was a stupid question.”

“Not sure that’s possible,” Fjord argues. After a moment, he amends, “For you, at least. What’s wrong?”

“Do you ever...regret this?” 

Caleb holds up his hand. The scar on his palm seems to glow gold in the firelight and Fjord can’t help but lift his own hand up, squinting at the matching scar there. Caleb’s words hang in the air between them.

“No,” Fjord says, only a bit surprised to find that it’s completely truthful. “I don’t. Why, do you?”

Caleb is yet again silent for long enough that Fjord thinks he isn’t going to answer. It could be minutes or hours - long enough that Fjord has turned back towards the cloudy sky, searching in vain for constellations he’s long-memorized - before Caleb answers.

“No,” he murmurs, a repeat, “I do not. Perhaps I should, but I do not. Is that strange?”

The clouds drift apart lazily, allowing a sliver of moonlight to fall across their camp. Fjord hums.

“Well, if it is, I guess I’m strange for it too.” Caleb doesn’t answer, but Fjord is used to his pensive silence. The fire crackles between them. “ _ Is _ there something we should regret?”

The mark on his palm tingles as he asks. Caleb shifts. When Fjord glances back at him, he’s yet again staring at his own scar, running his finger across its ridges. He looks up, eyes distant, to stare across the sleeping bodies of their friends.

“Nein _ , _ I do not think so. Perhaps they would tell us differently, but,” his eyes linger on Jester for a moment, “they are not awake to do so. For now, I believe we are good.”

Fjord leans forward and catches Caleb’s eye as he finishes his sweep of the camp. Caleb, for once, doesn’t look away. Fjord inclines his head, doesn’t look away.

“We’ll make it work,” he says, a callback. A promise.

Caleb’s lips curl up into a hint of a smile. “Let’s make it work,” he agrees.


End file.
